


Structural Formulas

by romanticalgirl



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/"></a><b>nolivingman</b> because geeky deserves geeky in turn.</p><p>Originally posted 8-7-06</p>
    </blockquote>





	Structural Formulas

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/)**nolivingman** because geeky deserves geeky in turn.
> 
> Originally posted 8-7-06

“So then,” Reed motions toward the small generator on the model. “The confluent circuits would then come online, leaving the retroversal functions to cool down, subverting all the power to the modal transport devices, creating…”

“Right, right.” Johnny bursts in as the students’ eyes start to glaze over. “Not exactly rocket science, Reed.”

“Er, yes, actually. It is. Um. Rocket. Science.” He adjusts his papers, well-used to being left behind when Johnny jumps in and regales students and teachers alike with tales of daring do and adventures. Sliding the papers into his briefcase, he walks to the door and slips out of the room, heading toward the coffee stand or the lab, whichever he can find first.

He keeps walking, pulling his notepad out of his jacket pocket and making a quick notation. He stops abruptly, scratching out his initial note and jotting down another, shaking his head all the while. “No. Absolutely not. Of course.”

“I’m sorry?”

He glances up and blinks rapidly, his mind processing everything – brown hair pulled back away from her face, wide-spaced hazel eyes edging toward green, slender neck accentuated by the upswept hair, shirt cut just low enough to show off a promising hit of cleavage without blinding him with flesh – “Er, what?”

“You were saying something.”

“Was I? Oh.” He glances down at the notebook in his hand. “Yes. Well. I was actually arguing with myself.”

”Which one of you was right?”

“I…” He stops and shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Both of us, maybe.”

“At least arguing with yourself, you always win.”

“You’d be surprised how very wrong you are.” He raises his gaze to the board behind her “I’ll have a…”

“It’s hard to read, I know. I’m working at becoming a doctor, and really, illegible handwriting is the most important thing, I’ve been told.”

“Physician, yes. Scientist, no.” He smiles and then glances back down at his note, noticing the slow sketch he’s building beneath it, the stretch of formula. She leans over the counter – really, the shirt was just the proper cut for her figure and her build – and turns her head, her hair brushing his shoulder.

“Caffeine.”

“What?”

Her finger is long and graceful, elegant almost, as it taps the paper right next to his pen. “That’s caffeine.”

He glances at the lines of the sketch and realizes she’s right. “Very good. Um…” He turns the page and starts again, lines growing bolder as he works. She waits until he’s about three-quarters of the way done. “Salt!” She blushes as he looks at her with a sharply cocked eyebrow. “Oh, er, sodium chloride!”

Handing over the pen, he throws down the gauntlet. “Your turn then.”

She turns another page, carefully bypassing a host of figures and lines, something that would mean nothing to anyone else. Reed smiles slightly, his breath tight in his throat as she smoothes her fingers over the marks and starts on a fresh page. He leans in a bit closer, his body angling toward hers as he turns his head. “Chloroform.”

“Show off.” She pushes the book back to him, her fingers grazing his as she hands the pen back as well. “Your turn.” She watches his face as he sketches, and he makes every effort not to react, his lower lip caught firmly between his teeth. She walks around the counter, leaning on it beside him as she watches him. “Acetone.”

Relinquishing the pen, he turns his attentions toward her, noting the rest of her body is as equally proportionate as the parts he’s already seen, her hips a nicely curved counterpoint to her breasts and her jeans fitting snugly but not terribly so. She lets her tongue slide out between her lips, the tip of it brightly pink in the shaft of sunshine that rains down from the skylights above. “Acetaldehyde.”

“Nitrobenzene.”

“Sulfuric acid.”

“Phenyl hydrazine.”

“Trimethylcarbinol.”

She takes the notebook from him again and turns to a fresh page, the last in the book. She shields it from him with her hand, glancing up occasionally to see if he’s watching her. He can’t help himself as a few errant strands of hair feather around her face, framing it with an diaphanous curtain, her tongue still visible, soft and pink and promising as she sweeps it over her lips. Finished, she bites her lower lip then smiles, passing the notebook to him.

His brow furrows at the words above the drawing, piecing the puzzle together as the formula comes into focus. “Ethanol. Would I like to go out for a…Oh.” He feels a flush stain his cheeks and takes an involuntary step back. “Oh.”

“Oh?” She tilts her head and runs her finger over the back of his hand. “Is that an ‘oh’ yes? Or an ‘oh’ no?”

”That’s a…well, it’s…” He swallows hard. “I’d like a coffee.”

Hurt flashes through her eyes and she moves away, easing back behind the counter. “Right. Coffee. C-cream or sugar?”

“It’s not…I _like_ you. I do. I…I’ve not…”

“What he’s trying to say,” the sharp edge of Sue’s voice hits before he registers the tapping sound of her heels, “is that he’s engaged. To me.”

Reed closes his eyes and wishes briefly that he’d thought to just stay inside and let Johnny handle this, since that’s how it always comes out in the end anyway. Johnny with at least a girl on each arm and everyone thinking science means hot chicks and cool cars and his model neglected in some random classroom. “This…this is Sue. Sue Storm, my fiancée.”

“Sue…then you’re…” The girl’s eyes widen. “You’re Reed Richards?”

Sue scoffs. “Nice. Very ingénue. Are you coming, Reed?”

“I’m waiting on my coffee.” He holds his smile in check until Sue storms off - _amusing, that_ , he thinks – and then he lets it go, spreading across his face. “I’m waiting. For my coffee.”

“Right.” She pours him a large coffee and puts the lid on securely before passing it over to him. “Before you go, I have another one for you.”

“Oh?” He leans in again, for the first time smelling the hint of coffee and chocolate that seems to swirl around her. She passes the book to him and closes it before he could get a decent look at what she left him. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

“No, I can’t…”

“Hey, Reed.” Johnny walks into the area carrying Reed’s model. “You left this. Again. Do I look like Ben? Like I’m made of muscles?”

“Sorry, Johnny.”

She’s there before he is and she takes the model from Johnny like it’s as light as air. “I’ll take this then. In payment. Figure out the last one if that’s not satisfactory. All right?”

Johnny stares from her to Reed then back again. “Reed?”

“Come on, Johnny. Sue’s waiting.” He hurries Johnny toward the doorway. “I’ll let you drive. Let’s just…”

“I can drive? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Just…” Reed pushes him ahead and then opens the book, turning back to the last page. It’s a series of lines, varying numbers in ten rows. He glances back at her then down at the notebook and then smiles.

Reed sighs and settles into the back seat of the car, ignoring the shimmering, angry edges of Sue’s invisible form. He can get his model back. All he has to do is be brave enough to call. Call her. Call her and hope that Sue never finds out.

Just call.

It’s a damn good thing he’s a super hero.  



End file.
